We make out like two teenagers, putting words aside. It’s only when I feel Ella’s hips wiggling against mine and realize we are getting a little too hot for public viewing that I pull back.
“I’m coming home with you tonight, Ella,” I say. “I trust in our love. I trust in our bond. I know that neither of us is ever going to accept less than what we have right at this moment.”
“And do you accept my apology?” she asks, eyes filled with worry.
“I accept everything about you, just as you do me,” I assure her. “I love you, Ella. For all the days of our past together, and all the days of our future. I will never fail you again.”
“Nor I you,” she assures me. “I love you, Jim. Never more so than this moment, and I’ll love you even more tomorrow.”
My hands go to her face, and I pull her in for a soft, gentle kiss of promise. When I release her, I take her hand. “Let’s go home.”CHAPTER 20SteeleFive days later…
As we walk out of the building, Lucy is on my right… crying.
Ella is on my left… crying.
My arms are around both their shoulders as I steer them across the parking lot toward my Range Rover. We just relinquished Brody back to the service dog organization, so he can go on to do amazing feats for someone special.
I had anticipated Lucy and Ella being a bit heartbroken, but I had not expected how attached I’d gotten to the damn dog. Still, I maintain the lump in my throat is from watching my girls cry, not from watching the volunteer carry Brody away from us.
But we knew it would be emotional. We talked about it last night at dinner, trying as a family to buck ourselves up. It worked… a little.
We walked into the building with Lucy holding Brody, and we left devastated.
“We are never fostering again,” Ella declares with a sniffle. “That was way too hard.”
“He was such a good puppy,” Lucy reminisces. “The best. Such a smart boy.”
“Easy to potty train,” I say, my favorite thing about him.
“The sweetest cuddler,” Ella murmurs.
“But he did like to chew,” I point out. “He ruined the legs on the couch and the foyer table.”
“And my headboard,” Lucy adds.
“He ate the heel off one of my favorite shoes,” Ella says, her voice not so fond anymore.
“I’m glad he’s gone,” I say fervently.
“He was an awful dog,” Ella validates.
“The worst,” Lucy chirps. “We should just stick to turtles or fish.”
And we all bust out laughing. I pull them into me for a hard hug, then let them go as we resume walking toward the car.
“I’ll miss him.” Lucy sighs as we reach the car.
Ella and I don’t say anything, but we agree with her wholeheartedly. He was a solid member of our family, if only for a couple weeks.
Once we’re inside and all buckled up, I glance over my shoulder at Lucy in the backseat and then to Ella. “Where to now?”
Ella seems to ponder by tapping her finger against her chin. A peek in the rearview mirror at Lucy gets me a shrug back.
“I know,” Ella exclaims, holding her index finger up as if struck by the most amazing revelation. “How about we get a new dog?”
“Really?” Lucy whispers from the back seat, and the shrieks, “Really?”
Wincing, I swivel toward her. “Really. Your mom and I have been stalking the local shelters, and there’s one that has a few options.”
“Puppies?” she inquires because she wants a puppy, although she wants it to be a rescue for sure.
“They have a litter,” I assure her.
“Then let’s go,” she exclaims, bouncing in her seat. “Hurry… let’s go.”
I glance at Ella, who smirks. I hold my hand out, and she places her palm in mine for a short squeeze.
Life is good.
?
It’s been an exhausting day, and I leave for an East Coast trip tomorrow. I’ll be gone four days, and I’m dreading it because I just got settled back into my home with my family, and I simply don’t want to leave them. It makes me wonder if I should consider retirement at the end of the year.
I still have good legs, stamina, and a lot to offer this team. But I don’t need the money. I’ve had all the glory. While hockey is still a passion, it’s not my main one now.
I head upstairs to check on Lucy. Our visit to the shelter was a lot of fun. We played with a variety of dogs and a group of wiggly adorable puppies. The shelter volunteer thought they were part golden retriever and part shepherd. There were three girls and two boys, and I simply couldn’t see how Lucy would be able to choose because not one stood out as better than the other. I expect if we let her, she would have brought the whole litter home.